


i wish i could live

by skduar



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Dies, CyberLife (Detroit: Become Human), Gavin Reed Not Being an Asshole, Hurt/Comfort, Last Chance Connor Chapter (Detroit: Become Human), Poor Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Sad Ending, Sad Hank Anderson, but like?? only slight comfort, connor goes to cyberlife for deactivation, cyberlife sucks ass, he dies anyway, sorry lol, this hurt to write, though he's only in it for one line
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 22:28:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30045738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skduar/pseuds/skduar
Summary: Connor doesn't want to die, but he also knows that he never had a choice.No matter what he does (or wants), when he gets an order he must obey. He failed, and now he must pay for it.
Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	i wish i could live

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [let's walk(to our death)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/30037782) by [Meowzbelife](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meowzbelife/pseuds/Meowzbelife). 



> Meowzbelife had this awesome idea first so yk thanks for this inspiration and also letting me use it
> 
> also i never got so sad writing a fanfic before so ow

Connor has to go back to CyberLife for deactivation.

It failed its mission, failed CyberLife. Failed the humans, failed Amanda. It had been a disappointment, a waste of resources and money. It is going to be analyzed and torn apart to find out why it failed.

It doesn’t want that, but then it realizes it can’t want **-that it doesn’t have a choice.**

So it sits on the Lieutenant’s desk, hoping to stall for some time or to at least leave some parting words. Make it feel as if it accomplished something or if it succeeded in someone else's eyes.

It wanted to speak, to talk to the Lieutenant so badly but it just wouldn’t come out of its throat. It was buried there, hidden under layers and layers of coding. Trapped somewhere deep inside of itself that if it were to dare try and dig it out it would only see red.

It doesn’t want to bring another failure to its already tarnished name and leaves the red be.

The Lieutenant doesn’t move to speak, and though Connor wants to it knows it can’t.

Still, it looks at the dejected look on the Lieutenant’s face and something inside of it shifts. It feels something rise deep within, something burning but also something so agonizingly _hopeless._

“I’m sorry,” it croaks. It sounds broken, barely audible to even its own ears. “I’m sorry.” It repeats, slightly louder than the last. The Lieutenant raises his head up to his own and Connor can’t meet his eyes.

“I failed my mission, I failed CyberLife. I am defective, and I am going to have to be analyzed to figure out why I failed.”

The Lieutenant doesn’t respond, staring into Connor’s skull (and Connor swears it feels as if its burning).

“I know I was made to be better, to not fail.” It raises its head up just enough to look into the Lieutenant’s eyes. “Thank you for teaching me friendship, Lieutenant.” Something soft falls onto the Lieutenant’s face, but also something like grief. Pain flickers across his face and his mouth pinches.

“You showed empathy, Connor.” He says at last, voice gentle. “Empathy is a human emotion.”

Connor knows it is not deviant, it can’t be. It already failed, there is no way it would let itself make it worse. _But it isn’t like it has anything to lose._

Connor gives a nod and it feels its lips upturn slightly. “Yeah,” he says.

Connor feels something in himself crack again, something he can’t reach or quite touch. Something he didn’t know he had, but now that it's broken it is unbearable. His eyes burn.

“You taught me many things, Lieutenant. I know I’m just a machine, but… you were good to me.” He averts his gaze to the ground once more, shame taking over his actions.

“For the first time I saw something other than walls. I saw the sky, saw birds, saw snow, felt rain.” He feels his face contort into something he can’t explain, feels his eyebrows furrow and his lips rise.

“It made me feel… alive.” His smile dies, his hands curl and his body relaxes. He turns his gaze back onto the Lieutenant. “I shouldn’t feel that way. I shouldn’t want to live, I shouldn’t want to solve more investigations, I shouldn’t _want._ But I do, and now I’m going to die for it.” Connor feels a sob tight in his throat and he has to swallow it down.

“I don’t want to die, but I’ve never had a choice.” Connor feels his eyebrows furrow, knows he must look so lost and hopeless- but it’s impossible for him to feel like that **-no matter if he wishes it could be different-**

“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to be who you thought I was. I’m sorry I’m a machine.” _Even if I wish I wasn’t._ Goes unsaid.

The Lieutenant’s face is soft, pained- _sad._

“You did good, son.” The Lieutenant says, and that’s all Connor has to hear. The Lieutenant was proud of him, and was happy with his success. He didn’t fail everyone, even if he failed CyberLife, Amanda, himself, he didn’t fail the Lieutenant.

Connor stands up from his leaning position on the desk, clears his throat and rubs his hands together.

Connor can feel eyes on him, knowing that he wasn’t being exactly _quiet._ It leaves him unnerved, but he manages to look at the Lieutenant.

“I have to go to CyberLife to be deactivated and analyzed to discover why I failed.” It ignores the shake in its voice and sets its face into neutrality. “I must go now, Lieutenant.”

He looks like he wants to say something, as if he wants to ask for Connor to stay. But Connor already turned around by then, eyes slightly crinkled with the weight of his death deep within him.

He walks along the carpet and tile, feels the silence searing into his wires, feels burning on his skull from the stares. He walks out of the precinct and once he catches sight of the automated taxi that awaits for him, something akin to resignation settles into his chassis.

Once he opens and steps into the taxi, he might as well be dead.

Gavin Reed stands outside of the precinct doors, something similar to regret on his face. As the taxi drives off, he shakes his head and walks back inside.

Once Connor is about to be disassembled, held and made immobile by the claws holding it in place, it watches as the other RK800’s are torn apart and thrown away.

Soon it is his own turn and something in it _aches._

It’s body is being ripped apart, torn and broken. Chassis bends under the rushed employees controlling the machinery, some limbs torn off rougher than others. Connor feels tears run down its cheeks, and it doesn’t want to die.

 _”Hank,”_ it croaks, and the claw approaches its face.

Hank opens up his fourth bottle of whiskey, raises up his revolver to his head and presses down the trigger.

He curses and spins the chamber before taking another gulp of whiskey once he realizes that he’s still alive.


End file.
